


Fragment of a Story

by delilahdraken



Series: Fragments [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen, Transgender, dialogue only
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-09
Updated: 2011-12-09
Packaged: 2017-10-27 03:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/290935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delilahdraken/pseuds/delilahdraken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike tells Xander a bit about his past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fragment of a Story

"Man, you sure know how to take a hit, Spike."

"Wasn't my idea to become shish kebab."

"Yeah, yeah. I've heard it all. You could have taken that demon with your arms behind your back if only Buffy hadn't ruined your performence by trying to safe your life. Come on, off with your shirt. You're bleeding all over my floor. You need bandages."

"It'll heal on its own in an hour or so."

"Just a little question. How long can you stay awake with all the red stuff outside of you when its natural habitat is inside of you, eh?"

"..."

"I can't hear you, oh fangless one."

"I said probably an hour or so."

"See? Now off with the shirt. It's not as if you didn't own at least two dozen totally identical shirts."

...

"Wow! Those are some impressive scars you have there. What kind of demon leaves that kind of skin memory?"

"Wasn't a demon."

"So you got them from humans? I didn't think the Initiative was into scarification tests."

"Soldier boys didn't get under my clothes."

"No?"

"I've had these scars since fifteen years before I died."

"You were hurt this bad when you were a human? It's a wonder you survived."

"I asked for it. Found a man with a steady hand and a sharp knife and told him to do it."

"Why would you ask for that kind of wound?"

"Watcher probably knows it already, but I was born in India. My mum ran away with a soldier when she could have had a duke. Love match, ya see?"

"Hmm. Lift your arms. I've got to put those bandages on you."

"Anyway, we had this servant girl when I grew up. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Taught me to speak hindi before I was eight. Mum was delighted about it. Father didn't like it so much."

"This too tight? Can you still breathe? Why am I even asking? You don't need to breathe."

"When I was twelve Father found out she was a hijra. Kicked her out of the house for daring to touch Mother with her dirty fingers. She had helped my mum to dress sometimes."

"Your dad kicked the help out because she did her job?"

"No. He kicked her out because she was a man dressed as a woman. Could have been worse. She could have ended up in prison. Was illegal at the time. Indecent, they said."

"Erm..."

"Four months later Father died of malaria and we packed our suitcases and got on the first ship back to the motherland. Mother was extatic to tell all her relatives what a fine child she had and I... Well, I finally got what I had always wanted."

"You wanted get out of India?"

"What? No. I liked India."

"What then?"

"That servant girl showed me that it could be done. If such a woman had started out as a man, then everything was possible in my opinion. I could do it as well, I thought."

"You wanted to dress like a woman?"

"..."

"Hey! Don't look at me like I am the greatest idiot that walks the planet."

"You are an idiot, Harris. Of course, I didn't want to dress like a woman. I am a man."

"I don't get it."

"Mother left India with a daughter, but arrived in England with a son."

**Author's Note:**

> One of these days I will expand this snippet of dialogue into a longer story.


End file.
